My Brother
by Tierney Beckett
Summary: Evie's thoughts as Imhotep lets go of the ledge, plummeting to eternal torment. NOT A LOVE STORY BETWEEN IMMY AND EVIE.


A/N: Okay, this is a small breather from my other fics. Just a one parter. I just had to work out what Evie/Nefertiri was thinking when Imhotep let go of the ledge. I know there are other fics like this on the site. If I step on anyone's toes, please know that it is not intentional. I apologize in advance if this sounds like someone else's fic.  
  
It had all begun ten years ago. I remember how he looked so familiar to me then. At least, once he was fully regenerated. But, at the time, I wasn't concerned with that. I was more concerned with not winding up a human sacrifice. And, afterwards, well, what can I say? If Rick O'Connell was kissing you, could you think of anything else?  
  
But I'm getting off the subject. Once I had that dream, pieces started coming together. Then, of course, there was my son's kidnapping and our chase across the desert. But it wasn't until that night on the dirigible that things really started becoming clear. Frighteningly clear.  
  
Rick had finally recovered from the scare I gave him when I launched myself over the side of Izzy's dirigible. He and Ardeth, thinking I was asleep, were talking more about Egyptian legend and the "three sides of the pyramid". But how could I sleep when my son was in the hands of the most evil being to ever walk the Earth? Yet, as my mind became clear, I remembered that he wasn't always that way.  
  
I was still just a child, only nine years old, when Imhotep came to live in our palace. He was grown, but also young, not more than 20 or 21 I think. Of course, at that time, he wasn't the high priest, yet. But he was obviously brilliant and his gifts were numerous. He was kind, really. We spent quite a bit of time together because he helped tutor me in Egyptian History and Religion. We became friends. I liked him because he never bowed and scraped to me. Even as a child, even in ancient times, I despised what Rick so delicately calls "butt-kissers". I won't repeat the actual word he uses in that phrase. You get the general idea.  
  
Imhotep and I were close, as close as we had a right to be. We always remembered our stations in life. But we got along. He was very funny when he chose to be. Of course, this is hard for you to imagine. You've only seen him as a monster, but I remembered more and more with every passing day. Imhotep was the closest thing I had to a best friend in the opposite sex. I was so proud when he became high priest nine years after first coming to the palace. Had I known what would follow, I would've seen to it that it never happened.  
  
Anck-su-namun entered our lives soon afterward. It was easy to see why my father wanted her for his wife. She was beautiful, intelligent, and even charming in her own, serpentine way. I didn't like her from the moment I set eyes on her, but I couldn't understand why. It didn't take me long to figure that out.  
  
She was sweet as she could be in front of my father and other members of Pharaoh's court, but she made no secret of her hatred for me. I didn't understand that at the time, but, looking back now, I see that I was her only obstacle. She had everything planned to a science. I was in her way.  
  
Not long after she arrived, Imhotep began to change. He rarely came to visit me anymore. The only time I saw him was in the throne room, when he was supposed to remain absolutely silent unless asked to speak. Being somewhat preoccupied with my own romance with a certain Medjai warrior, I didn't give it too much thought at the time. Until that fateful day when I became the protector of the bracelet of Anubis.  
  
I saw the look they exchanged behind the Pharaoh's back. It was a look of desire and longing. On Imhotep's part, it was a look of love. I saw through her mask. He was too blinded by love to see what was underneath that adoring gaze. His beloved had a heart of stone. She would use him. And I knew it. But I had no idea it would involve the death of my own father and set in motion a cycle that would continue for thousands of years.  
  
It was that night when my suspicions were confirmed. I averted my eyes, not only because I was looking upon blasphemy, but because I couldn't bear to see my friend fall under this sorceress' spell. Then, my beloved father walked in unsuspectingly. And my heart broke at the sight I saw next. I had no thought except getting to my father. My mind told me I couldn't bridge the gap between my balcony and the balcony on which my father stood, but my heart didn't listen. I fell over the railing, but my Medjai lover caught me just as Rick did thousands of years later.  
  
I was the one who sentenced Imhotep. I never looked upon him after that night. Never saw his face after he killed my father. I couldn't bear to see him. Now, as I look upon his face, as I hear his cries for his love to help him, I remember the man he used to be. I watch with shock and sorrow as he is abandoned by his beloved. Abandoned by the woman he went through so much to be with. I feel sympathy for the heartbreak he is feeling now and am filled with sorrow when I remember the man he used to be.  
  
He looks at me and Rick with something like envy. We catch each other's eyes and I know he is remembering what we used to be. Very much like brother and sister we once were. Some small part of me wants to help him, but I know that is impossible and so does he. His eyes tell me he doesn't want to live if he doesn't have the love of the woman who so cruelly deceived him. I watch as he disappears over the ledge, choosing eternal torment over a life without her. Goodbye, Imhotep. I shall try to remember you as you once were. My friend, my brother.  
  
A/N: Okay, I know it's sappy, but I felt so bad for Imhotep at the end of TMR. Surely a man with that kind of love for a woman couldn't have been evil all his life. I'm not a historian, so if there's anything inconsistent with Egyptian myth and/or history in this fic, chalk it up to ignorance on my part and try to remember something if you're really bothered by it. It's a STORY. Not a textbook. Thanx for putting up with me. 


End file.
